MLIA
by Ris Fallon
Summary: For six long, exciting months, Daisuke's life was one of a double-agent: He went to school by day and helped save the Digital and real worlds by night. But that's ended, and once again, Daisuke's life is average and he's perfectly fine with that.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** I don't write enough for Daisuke despite the fact that he really is one of my favorite characters (that I rag on constantly, I know). I also have difficulty writing anything that is by the standard definition "short". I mean, 919 words killed my soul to leave alone. So this is a series inspired by MLIA, because that site is the source of my inspiration these days. This might not be updated regularly – when a particular story catches my Daisuke muse, I'll update.

You know, I've never fired a Nerf Gun before. My friends find that terribly depressing – I'm sure they'll correct that come Spring.

* * *

Most guys, when forced to join their parents on a shopping trip for things other than food, made a beeline for the electronics department. And on some days – many days, really – Daisuke was right along with them. If he wasn't looking for new soccer gear, he started towards the new game systems and flashing SFX as though he were in a trance.

But Daisuke had found a wall of Nerf guns – they were just an aisle away from the sports gear, and his eyes grew wide and childlike as he let them wander from children's toy to children's toy, wondering if his parents would allow him to ever have one again after he had aimed one at Jun's hair (for it presented a rather large target, he had argued at the age of ten). Although it had been four years since then, his attitude hadn't changed very much.

He lifted one off the wall with a cautious glance over his shoulder to make sure that neither Jun nor his parents were nearby.

They weren't.

He smirked.

He crouched down low and pulled the trigger, feeling an odd, inappropriate sense of satisfaction as the tension released and the Styrofoam dart flew from the gun. He spun around and fired off another, aiming at invisible foes only Daisuke's mind could begin to fathom the likes of. He sprinted to the end of the aisle, pressed his back to the shelves, and took a deep breath as though preparing himself to leap from the trench and into the enemy's line of fire.

He leaped out from the aisle, pressing his finger against the trigger and firing off another Nerf.

"Pew, Pew!"

He laughed, still believing himself to be quite alone. But then his eyes focused on more than his mental picture and he blinked. A man in a blue vest with a worker's name tag was wide eyed with fright, hands raised in the air and his mouth slack with panic.

Daisuke fired the Nerf Gun again, meekly this time, in the direction of the employee. A sign of friendship, informing him of the game. The guy wasn't getting it.

"Pew?" 


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** If ever I seem to trash Daisuke, it is teasingly and out of love. Remember that.

* * *

He was late.

He was very late.

But it wasn't his fault, Daisuke had insisted while stuffing toast in his mouth while trying to pull on a pair of soccer shorts. He insisted that his alarm wasn't loud enough, ignoring Jun's snort of laughter. He realized halfway down to the lobby that his shirt was on backwards and his shoe was untied, but he figured he could fix that when he got to the field. The game was in an hour, and it took him about that long to get there.

In his rush, he fumbled the combination on his bike lock four times before it finally clattered to the sidewalk. He stuffed it in his duffle bag, crammed the duffle bag into the basket on his bike, and swung his leg over.

Daisuke groaned. Oh man, Coach was gonna tear him a new one.

The bicycle wobbled dangerously as he violently rotated the wheels as he sped off down the sidewalk. He didn't try get into the road. He didn't have time for stupid restrictions like rules, and more than once, he saw a rude hand gesture made in his general direction. There might have even been some jeering, but Daisuke was oblivious; all that mattered was making it to the game.

"Move, move, move! Let's go," he shouted, trying to get to the road only when it became clear that the crowd was only slowing him down. He scowled. Seriously, couldn't people tell this was important?! Apparently not – he was met with many an annoyed face as he navigated his bike around people.

"Daisuke-kun? Hey, Daisuke!" The voice was familiar, but Daisuke didn't have time to contemplate things like that. He narrowed his eyes and hunched low over his handle bars, eyes focused on the street beyond the blond haired boy whose association with Daisuke clicked only as the wheel almost went over Takeru's foot.

"Baka,"Daisuke yelled angrily, glancing recklessly over his shoulder at a stunned Takeru, who had bumped into a crowd of suit-and-tie-clad adults in an attempt to avoid being hit. "Watch where you're going, moron!"

Takeru blinked, but Daisuke didn't see. He had faced forward again, chin nearly level with his handle bars as he tried to make his legs pump faster, faster, fa—asdfghhjkl;!

Daisuke shouted in surprise, fear, and finally pain as his bike toppled over with a loud crash! of metallic parts. A small elderly woman clutched a black metal walking stick stood over Daisuke as he groaned and struggled to disentangle his legs from the bike so that he could sit up. She looked rather furious, spare hand clutching the large black tote that had been used to knock Daisuke from his bike.

"You almost hit that poor boy, you stupid child," she exclaimed in a froggy voice. Daisuke didn't reply, but rather rubbed the back of his head with a wince of pain. Daisuke scowled as the woman hobbled off, although he didn't quite trust himself to stand until a hand was held in front of his face. It was Takeru's, and Daisuke met his eyes with a glare.

"You okay," Takeru asked, sounding generally concerned. But Daisuke wasn't having it. He wasn't sure his ego would suffer from such a blow.

"Whatever." 


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note:** Am I having a little too much fun with this? Yes, yes I am. Don't worry – Daisuke will have his revenge.

My writing really sucks lately, doesn't it? That's kind of why I haven't been working on my other, more serious projects. I feel like I won't do them justice at all, so this is just to keep me from getting totally out of practice with writing fanfics.

* * *

"What's the point of this again," Daisuke's mother asked, attempting to sound patient as she struggled to lift a large plastic bucket from a top shelf in the small closet. With a grunt of effort, she staggered backwards and dropped it unceremoniously on the carpet. Daisuke tackled the task of removing its lid and spilling the contents without so much as a thank you.

"'Our history' project," he said, placing emphasis where air quotes would have been preferred, if his hands hadn't been busy pushing papers away from him. "Need something about our mindset when we were little."

"What mindset," Jun asked, feigning innocence with a blink of her long eyelashes. Daisuke ignored her.

For a long while, there was no sound – only that of Jun's sappy soaps droning on and the sound of rustling papers as Daisuke discarded first this one, then that one into a heap at his side.

"What the hell is this," he exclaimed suddenly. There was a flurry of papers as the pile in his lap fell to the floor in Daisuke's haste to get up.

"What," Jun asked vaguely, clearly uninterested. She tried to lean around Daisuke, for he had gotten in her face and was shoving a paper under her nose.

"Look at this!" he demanded, waving the paper before her when she didn't respond right away. Jun blinked. "You wanted to kill me!" His voice rose an octave in indignation.

"Did I?" Jun pulled the paper out of his hands and looked at it with renewed amusement.

"When you were six! I wasn't even a year old," he pouted, arms folded across his chest now that his hands were empty. He looked like a sulky puppy.

"I know. I knew I was a clever kid." 


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** It's a short one, just because we were busting on my friend about something similar to this when I spent the weekend at his house. I'm going to be horribly depressed with cabin fever when he moves. Sigh.

And, yeah. I don't much feel like writing anything longer than this. Sorry about that; I'm just trying to make myself giggle before getting on with my night. I advise setting the page to "1/2" format so that it looks... you know, like less of a waste of your time. Just saying.

* * *

"So. Who else has heard the 2012 thing," Daisuke asked through a mouthful of mashed potatoes. It was a sign of how accustomed the Motomiyas were to this that they didn't need to ask for clarification.

"Oh, for heaven's – not that," Jun grumbled, lowering her head as though focusing on her plate, but Daisuke knew she was merely concealing her eye roll from their parents, who tried to discourage sibling skirmishes at the dinner table. It rarely worked, but they tried to indulge in their parents' fantasies every once in a while to make them feel successful and respected and jazz.

"What," Mrs. Motomiya asked, obviously confused. Her husband shrugged and shook his head, equally ignorant.

"It's some stupid thing on the internet," Jun snapped, speaking loudly over Daisuke's attempts to explain. "Ignore him."

"It's not _just_ on the internet," Daisuke exclaimed, indignantly puffing his cheeks.

"But what _is_ it," their mother asked, very barely concealing a frustrated whine that so resembled her daughter when she felt ignored.

"A stupid--" Jun began, but this time Daisuke was louder.

"It's this Pap--"

"Papaya is a fruit, you idiot," Jun cut in. "It's 'Mayan'."

"Whatever. These really old dudes made this crazy prediction that the world was going to end in 2012," Daisuke said, brushing off his own mistake with a bright grin. He felt like the deliverer of something bearing grave importance; however, to his annoyance, his dad stuffed a large cut of steak into his cheek.

"Really now," he mumbled around his meat, causing Jun to cringe and Daisuke to snigger. There was silence while he struggled to chew, and then to swallow. "Well, what'd you do – if it was true, and the world was going to end, that is."

"I'd want to be with my family," Mrs. Motomiya said, unabashed as she reached for her son's hand (for it lay on the table nearest to her), and her husband's. Jun sat back in her chair, crossing her arms across her chest and rolling her eyes at her mom's tearing eyes.

"I wouldn't mind having you guys with me," Mr. Motomiya conceded, "with a football match on the telly and a bowl of figs."

"Figs," Jun asked, raising her eyebrows skeptically. Their father nodded, content with his version of their last moments, and reached for the bowl of peas.

"I know what _I'll_ be doing when December 21, 2012 comes around," Daisuke smirked.

Jun was smirking as well, although there was barely concealed laughter in her eyes. But it was their father who found the needle to burst Daisuke's bubble.

"Son," he said, trying to be serious but failing as his lips twitched into a barely masked grin. "Your hand doesn't count; I advise you go find yourself a girlfriend."

Daisuke's face turned red as he tried to defend himself over the din of the entire family's laughter.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note:** Because the site I need to use for my project is blocked on the school computers, I had nothing to do for nearly two hours, and it's disgustingly hot out. This is the result. Aren't you lucky?

* * *

It was hot. And muggy. Muggy and hot. A terrible combination.

Daisuke was reluctant to do anything that involved leaving the comfort of the air conditioned living room, meaning that even a trip to the bathroom was deliberated for so long that he didn't feel as though he had to go anymore. Trips to the fridge, usually quite frequent, were considered an unnecessary action. It was just too hot to eat.

But after a while, his gurgling, painful stomach got the better of him. He called in a whiny voice for his mother, father, and Jun, but none were home. His parents, which he would have known if he had not tried to sleep until noon, were working late. Jun was at a friend's house, boasting that they had Central Air. Daisuke was left to fend for himself.

With much grumbling and mumbling, he sat up, swung his legs off the couch, and made his way to the kitchen. Sweat trickled down his back as he stood in the kitchen, wondering if there was anything to be eaten that didn't need to be cooked. Desperate for the cool air that opening the fridge would offer him, he reached for the handle… only for there to be a mosquito, large and intimidating, perched on the expanse of refrigerator door.

Years of soccer training and months of battling monsters in the Digital world had prepared him for this moment. Without a second's hesitation, he reached for the empty paper towel roll on the top of the garbage and whacked the mosquito with it.

A wing fluttered feebly before remaining still.

Daisuke nodded, satisfied with his work. He tossed the paper towel roll away and opened the fridge door, returning to his pursuit of cold edibles. He left the mosquito remains plastered to the fridge, a warning sign for its friends, family, and mosquito minions to stay away. 


End file.
